


Winter Serenade

by aceofsparrows



Series: Way Down Hadestown [3]
Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Cozy, F/M, Fluff, Winter, bleuaceofsparrows fic, the feeeeeelssss, tumblr anon prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 02:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21486811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofsparrows/pseuds/aceofsparrows
Summary: From tumblr: eurydice has trouble sleeping and orpheus helps her get to sleep by serenading her. (anon)
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown)
Series: Way Down Hadestown [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556290
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Winter Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh this was so fun to write!!! very little editing was done, however, so sorry for any errors..... I think I've caught all of them at this point.... 
> 
> *from “Think of You” by Reeve Carney, THE Orphydice song :)
> 
> Seriously, go listen to it while you read this, it'll be worth it :)
> 
> Sweet dreams!  
-Sparrow

Eurydice hates winter. Sure, everyone hates winter, she supposes; it’s cold and dark and longer than it ever needs to be, but Eurydice hates winter more than anyone else in their tiny town. Why? Mostly it’s her past experience with winter; for most of her life cold weather meant hunger and loneliness and being so close to death that you weren’t sure if you’d wake up when you went to sleep. But winter also means staying indoors, and that’s something Eurydice hates even more than the season itself. She hates being forced to stay in one place, not being able to move around. It’s almost funny; she and Orpheus both don’t do well in small spaces for long periods of time, so you’d think that living in a tiny house together for six months of the year with little opportunity to go outside would be a recipe for disaster, and yet they haven’t torn each other to shreds yet. 

The keyword being “yet”. 

Anyway, it’s a cold, dark evening somewhere in the middle of winter, and Eurydice can’t fall asleep. The fire is warm, she and Orpheus have just gotten home from a long day working at Mister Hermes’, and she’s tired. So, so tired, the kind of tired that settles in your bones and makes you not want to move for eternity. She and Orpheus are sprawled on the floor, cozy in a pile of haphazardly-sewed quilts, drowsy with leftover dandelion wine, and Eurydice wants nothing else but to fall into a silent, blissful sleep. 

But her mind is wide awake. 

Orpheus sighs, leaning his head on hers. His hands are lazily fidgeting with a loose thread on the quilt, and he hums a tune low in his chest, something long and rambling and melody-less. Orpheus sings as easily as he breathes, and though it sometimes annoys Eurydice, tonight it comforts her to know that he is happy and present, here with her in this moment and not somewhere in the depths of his psyche. They both have deep, dark parts of their minds, and every so often they get lost in them. But however bad those times may be, they makes nights like this one all the more special, when they can sit and think and be together, content to bask in the moment. 

Eurydice closes her eyes, feeling those familiar tendrils of sleep reaching for her, but they don’t quite take hold, and she makes a little noise of indignation in the back of her throat in annoyance. 

Orpheus shifts under her slightly, humming paused for a moment. “What is it ‘rydice?” He asks, high voice soft and tender. 

“Can’t fall asleep,” Eurydice mumbles, eyes still closed, turning sideways to curl in Orpheus’ lap. He smiles (though she can’t see it) and reaches for his guitar where it rests against the stone of the fireplace. 

“Move over a bit, love,” he says, and laughs softly when Eurydice protests to the movement, but after a moment she complies, curling at her husband’s side so he can rest his guitar on his lap. 

Orpheus takes a moment to insure the well-loved instrument is in tune, listening closely as it sings the notes back to him, and then he pauses, letting the air settle again before he strums to first chord of whatever song he about to play. 

That first chord is soft and simple, clear as a summer stream. It washes over Eurydice, and she can almost see it pooling in the air around them, filling the small space of their little living room with musical whimsy. 

This is what she loves about when Orpheus sings. 

When Eurydice first met Orpheus, he could barely control how the world reacted to his songs. He got excited easily, enchanting the very landscape with his over-enthusiasm. But since then he has learned to quiet the humming of the world around him, to sing only for himself and her, and not for the rest of the world. He has learned to be just selfish enough with his music, and it’s moments like these, when he weaves a tune simply for the two of them, that she treasures the most. 

This evening’s tune pluses, warm and slow but constant like a lazy heartbeat. The words of his song are ones Eurydice has not heard before; they must be new, a song that threads itself as Orpheus spins the notes into melodies and chords. They are melancholy lyrics, but every line ends in hope, and it is the perfect sort of song Eurydice loves to hear her husband sing. 

It certainly helps that it’s obviously about her. 

_ **When the going’s getting tough** _

_ **And I feel like giving up** _

_ **When I think I’ve had enough** _

_ **I think of you** _

_ _

_ **You’ve always been and you’ll always be** _

_ **Even to the end, I’ll think of you** _

_ **You are the way, the truth, and the life** _

_ **And I’ll follow you…** _

_ _

_ **When it’s time to say goodbye** _

_ **And a tear wells in my eye** _

_ **I can hold my head up high** _

_ **When I think of you** _

_ _

_ **My flesh is weak, but your spirit wills** _

_ **That my heart and mind, will think of you*** _

_ _

When the song ends Orpheus lays his guitar down gently on the floor, smiling at his wife where she is curled against his calf. Her breaths are slow and even, heavy with sleep, and her face is loose and young, lips and brows and nose perfect in their stillness. She is asleep, and it fills his heart with warmth to know that he has helped her get the rest she needs. 

It’s time for him to sleep too. 

Moving carefully and quietly, he kneels and takes Eurydice gently in his arms, carrying her on soft feet to their small bed in the corner of the room behind an old silk curtain. He lays her tenderly on the bare mattress, leaving her only for a moment to fetch their pile of hodgepodge quilts from the warm hearth. The fire has dwindled to dark, dull embers, glowing faintly in the darkness, and the room chills with the latent heat of the once-great blaze. 

Not bothering to undress in the now cold room, Orpheus joins his wife in the snug embrace of the blankets, curling around her small fetal form until they are like yin and yang, two complementary halves of a whole. Orpheus drifts to sleep with his arms wrapped tightly around the slumbering woman he loves, and their hearts beat slowly as one, pulsing in pleasant symmetry. 

_All is well. _


End file.
